


Strength is Relative

by siriuspiggyback



Category: The New Legends of Monkey (TV)
Genre: Blood, Cuddling, Feelings Are Confusing, Gen, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Misgendering, Multi, could be taken as romantic or friendship, monkey doesnt know that tripitaka is a girl, monkey is bi and you can fight me, tripitaka is badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 10:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14518458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuspiggyback/pseuds/siriuspiggyback
Summary: Tripitaka gets hurt, Monkey gets worried. They definitely don't cuddle when they sleep.





	Strength is Relative

**Author's Note:**

> i just binge watched the whole show and then found out there's no fanfic in this fandom. This is a tragedy.  
> if any of y'all would like to yell with me about it on tumblr, my username is siriuspiggyback

 

 

“Let me see,” demanded Monkey. 

“No!” cried Tripitaka, covering her wounded thigh with her hand  protectively .

“You’re bleeding,” he said, looking somewhere between concerned and curious. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” she said, stubborn. “I’m not  _ weak _ .” It would  probably be more convincing if she wasn’t propped against a tree with a stab wound. It’s not that she  couldn’t stand up. She was  just … taking a break. Anyway, she wasn’t  badly hurt. The demon had only stabbed her  lightly .

Monkey’s forehead creased. “I never said you were.” Tripitaka shot him an irritated glance. “Okay,  I might have said it, but I never meant it!”

Tripitaka let out a long breath, trying not to curse Monkey. In times like this, it was hard to stay civil. “Yes, it hurts.” His frown returned at this, staring at the blood like it was a complex maths problem. 

Monkey knelt down to the forest floor, placing a warm hand over hers. He looked at her, deploring. “Please, Tripitaka. Let me take a look.” 

How was she supposed to say no to to that?

Hesitantly , she revealed the wound. It wasn’t deep, but it was still bleeding. Monkey tugged off his scarf, and began wrapping it tight around the cut.  Despite his efficient movements, his hands were  surprisingly gentle, careful not to touch her more than necessary . It seemed at odds with his brash words and cheeky smiles.  Tripitaka pinched her lips together  in an effort to hold in any pained noises, not wanting to make Monkey feel that he was hurting her .

“So what’s the prognosis, doc? Am I dying?” she said, teeth gritted, attempting to lift the heavy atmosphere that had settled over the two of them.

“No, you’re not,” he said, tying the scarf  tightly . Tripitaka's breath hitched, and she blinked away the tears that gathered.

“How do you know?” asked Tripitaka, unwilling to sit in silence. It left too much time to think about the fiery pain.

"Hm?" murmured Monkey, as he double knotted the cloth.

"How do you know that this isn't a fatal wound?" she teased.

Monkey sat back, giving her his patented smirk. “Because dying would hurt a lot more.”

She laughed a little. “Of course,” she said, admiring his neat handiwork. 

“I’m sorry,” said Monkey, apropos of nothing.

“What? Why?” she blinked up at him.

“For not saving you,” he said, expression tight.

Tripitaka couldn’t help but burst into laughter at his seriousness. “I can save myself. Besides, I’m still alive, aren’t I?

“Yes,” Monkey gave her a strange smile, “I suppose you can. I  just … don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Monkey, I knew what I was signing up for when I freed you,” she replied.  Maybe it wasn’t quite true - none of this had been what she expected - but she could  honestly say she didn’t regret a thing.

“Right. Thanks, by the way. For, you know…” he trailed off.

“Yeah. I know,” Tripitaka tried to smile, but there was a sinking worry in her gut. Monkey’s eyes held a strange, open expression, and she felt somehow shy in the face of it. In his eyes was something that he had never shown her before: vulnerability. “You’re  uncharacteristically serious tonight. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” he smiled, shaking his head. “ Just tired. Long day of kicking demon ass.” He demonstrated a couple of mock punches, drawing out a rare giggle from Tripitaka.

“We should  probably get some sleep,” said the monk, shuffling away from the tree to lie flat.

“Of course. Yes,” said Monkey, propping his head on his arm. He shifted around  noisily , trying to get comfortable. She wondered if he was capable of doing anything without making a production of it. It had been irritating, at first, but she had grown fond of it. She liked that she never had to guess with him. His moods  were written out in every sigh and whine.  Tripitaka wriggled in an attempt to find a patch with no tree roots, but it was futile struggle in such dense forest . “You know what I miss?” said Monkey, “Real beds.”

Tripitaka groaned. “With pillows.”

“And soft blankets,” he sighed  wistfully .

“And proper food.”

“This whole searching for scrolls gig hasn’t been as luxurious as I was hoping,” Monkey murmured. 

“Mm,” she mumbled in reply, eyes drifting closed.

“Hey, Tripitaka?” he said, glancing over, only to find that she was already asleep. He looked at her with a half smile. “Good night.”

 

 

When Monkey awoke, it was to find Tripitaka’s head cradled on his shoulder. He held his breath  reflexively , not wanting to wake the monk. The boy needed his rest, after yesterday’s near death experience. He was still a little pale, although the pained lines around his eyes had relaxed in sleep.  He felt a little sick, remembering Tripitaka’s scream echoing through the trees, the smell of blood and the ugly grin of the demon . The terror that he was too late, that Tripitaka had died for him, because of him.  The weight of Tripitaka is somehow comforting, the undeniable knowledge that he was safe . 

In the morning light, Tripitaka’s freckles were stark against his skin, and the sun danced on his long eyelashes . So if Monkey thought that he was kind of beautiful - well, no one could prove it. Careful not to jostle the boy, he wrapped his arm around the monk, resting a hand on his petite shoulder.  Feeling more at peace than he had since his imprisonment, Monkey closed his eyes and let himself drift back into sleep .

 

 

 

 


End file.
